


What It Felt Like

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Sex, Clothing Kink, Desk Sex, Feelings, Light Bondage, Longing, Lust, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, Repressed Emotional Trauma, Soft kissing, coat sex, season 2 fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24947140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Flint catches Silver trying on his coat.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	What It Felt Like

There’s the familiar harsh sound of Flint clearing his throat and Silver turns sharply. He has literally no excuse for what he’s doing and they both know it. He’s caught trespassing in the newly reclaimed captain’s cabin. And while he could argue that he has every right to be in here, seeing as he’s the one who helped Flint along the way, Silver knows this isn’t the moment to pursue that particular path here and now. He’d rather save it for another day when he has more need of it.

“This is…a surprise.” Flint speaks first.

Silver starts to shed the coat currently gracing his shoulders and Flint holds up his hand causing him to pause, mid-motion, coat still hanging from his frame.

“Hold on.” He circles Silver, studying him. “I confess, I find myself curious as to your motivations here.” His words sound honest enough. There is curiosity there, as though Flint really doesn’t understand what he’s doing here.

“I merely….” Silver starts and then pauses, dropping his gaze for a moment.

A moment long enough that Flint clearly considers prompting him to finish his damned thought. Silver can feel the words pressing on the man’s tongue. And the fact that Flint holds them back, that instead he waits there, waits for Silver to actually fucking speak, is a wonder.

“I wanted to see what it felt like.” Silver says at last.

“It’s just a coat.” Flint says gruffly. Still, he knows what Silver means. He’s only possessed the coat for a short time but already it gives him renewed vigor. Another prop to aid him in his continued charade. Every little bit helps.

Silver knows that. Of course he does. Why the fuck is he doing what he’s doing, if he didn’t understand the importance and the necessity of an image?

Flint’s still looking at him and once again Silver starts to remove it. The weight of it is heavier underneath Flint’s gaze and abruptly he’s anxious to have it off him and escape the cabin and Flint’s gaze with it.

“Wait.” Flint says, and again Silver obeys, keeping the coat on.

Flint moves around the desk, going for the bottle of rum on the sideboard. When he turns back to Silver there’s something in his gaze that sends a pulse of heat through Silver’s groin.

He has thought of Flint in that manner.

Of course he has.

But the truth of the matter is Silver knows better than to do more than that. A thought is nothing, a passing fancy is easily excused away. Lust in the night when you can’t sleep and need something to distract yourself. All of these things are nothing in their own way.

But to make a move here would be sheer folly. To think Flint’s expression means something is ridiculously foolish.

So he merely holds still, holds himself back as Flint pours them each a cup of rum and comes close to place Silver’s in his hand.

“What’s this for?” Silver makes himself ask. He has to break the silence. If he leaves it there, the intensity of Flint’s gaze will undo the carefully placed barrier of logic in Silver’s mind.

“To our endeavors.” Flint says smoothly, softly. He raises his cup, waiting for Silver to do the same.

And slowly, so slowly, it’s as though his hand doesn’t remember to how to do this, Silver lifts his own to his mouth. “To our endeavors.” He murmurs.

They drink, their eyes resting on each other and it’s too warm inside the cabin. Silver can hardly breathe as the rum makes its way down his throat. He’s sweating underneath the coat, Flint’s coat, and he needs to get out of here before something happens that neither of them can take back.

Flint clears his throat and sets his cup down. He reaches for the bottle, pouring himself another measure. As he does, he turns his head and looks directly at Silver.

“If you hold no interest in exploring this further, I understand.” The words are quiet. Matter-of-fact. There is this understanding between them, in Flint’s voice. That if this matter holds no weight, it is all right.

Silver pauses and licks his lips, considering all his options here, weighing his options. “And if I do?”

Flint’s hand only pauses on his cup for a moment and then he raises it again. “Then we can see where this course of our partnership takes us.”

_We. Our. Partnership._

Three words that make Silver’s stomach tighten with unexpected longing. He had nothing invested in a potential sexual relationship with Flint; it is in his best interests to keep the man pliant and welcoming of his side of the deal, but this… _this_ is different. It will be different if they undertake this, and they both know that.

There are so many reasons that Silver should leave the cabin. But that look in Flint’s eyes calls to him softly and pervasively as though it were a siren luring him to dash himself against the sea’s jagged rocks.

“Well then.” Silver says, taking another sip of rum. “Shall we?”

Flint turns all the way around then to face him. He leans back against the table surveying Silver with the full heat of his gaze. It slips over Silver like warm honey and heats him from head to toe. And slowly, as slow as it takes for the clock’s hands to make its full turn around the face, Flint raises his hand to cup Silver’s face.

It feels soft by a degree that Silver doesn’t know what to make of. He’s not sure of anything here. But this softness, he doesn’t understand at all.

He inclines his head faintly, and that’s all it takes to acquiesce. All it needs for Flint to step into his space and kiss him.

Silver inhales softly through his nose as Flint kisses him. A part of him can’t believe this is truly happening, and then there’s a silent part of him that can’t comprehend why they’ve waited so long.

Flint’s hands are there on his face, then on his neck and shoulders, holding him, anchoring him there against the desk as Flint’s mouth moves upon him. Somehow Silver’s set his own rum down, reaching for Flint. His fingers grasp at Flint’s shirt, pulling him nearer until they’re chest to chest.

Flint groans softly and for a moment Silver starts to ask him if he’s in pain and then like an idiot, he understands the meaning behind Flint’s groan.

He spreads his legs a little as Flint presses harder against him, the full length of his cock swelling against Silver’s groin. Silver sucks in a breath, trying to think of something, anything to say, but all he can think is _Flint’s cock is touching me._ And in that instance, all the longing and lust he’s been burying deep inside him ever since he first set eyes on Flint, for fear of painful repercussions, comes roaring out of him like tidal wave.

His hands slide down Flint’s back to his buttocks, cupping them hard, pulling Flint firmly against him, rubbing his own cock shamelessly against Flint’s in return. Hoping that will speak for him, that this offering of his body will be enough to tell Flint how much he wants this.

“Fuck.” Flint groans. He lets go of Silver’s neck briefly, yet still leaning into him as he rests his hand on the desk, as though to trying to steady himself.

He pulls back a little, just enough to look at Silver’s face.

If he asks, Silver will have to make himself speak, will have to answer him. But his tongue feels swollen with lust and he’s not sure he’s capable of it. He wants Flint to simply take him. Surely Flint can see that need just by looking in his eyes?

Flint just gazes at him for what feels like an eternity to Silver’s aching soul. But at last he clears his throat faintly and raises his hand to cup Silver’s cheek again, even more gently this time. His lips are soft and seeking on Silver’s as he kisses him. There are no words now; no words are needed here.

Or perhaps a few, at least.

As their kisses grow more heated, Silver pressed up against the desk, Flint’s hands roaming his body possessively, reaching for his breeches. He draws them down, tugging them over Silvers thighs and ankles, tossing them aside.

Silver once again starts to discard the coat and Flint’s hands settle on his shoulders, keeping the coat firmly in place.

“Leave it on.” Flint murmurs.

Silver doesn’t have time to respond before Flint’s lifting him and placing him on the desk.

He leans past Silver to reach for something and Silver can’t resist biting lightly at his ear.

Flint growls in turn and when he straightens up, his eyes meet Silver with darkened lust. He holds up the small jar of oil he’d been searching for. “Your hands or mine?”

At the sight of it, Silver’s voice goes again. He wants so badly, and yet…he can barely meet Flint’s now. But he wants this, wants Flint’s fingers inside him almost as much as he wants his cock.

Finally he manages to push the one small word out, yet it feels tremendous on his tongue. “Yours.” In case that wasn’t enough, he spreads his thighs in invitation.

Flint grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Innately he seems to understand that where Silver’s words fail him, Flint’s words are more than welcome.

He slicks his fingers and brushes them softly between Silver’s legs, seeking the heat there.

Silver squirms faintly, trying to remind himself that it will feel better in a moment. This is the part that he nearly always feels uncomfortable. Usually he does this part, not trusting anyone else to touch him like this. But somehow with Flint it was different. _He’_ s different. Somehow, he’s allowed to be.

Flint’s finger presses slowly further and it does get easier. In fact Flint takes enough time that Silver grows impatient and starts biting teasingly at Flint’s neck to get him to hurry up. In response Flint’s free hand closes on the nape of his neck, drawing him off.

“Enough.” Flint tells him. “I want to come inside you if you hold no objection.”

It’s Silver’s turn to clear his throat. “No, none.”

At last Flint leaves off his ministrations and undoes his breeches.

Silver watched hungrily as he draws out his cock. He would be lying if he’d said he’d never cast a glance in Flint’s direction, seeking a glimpse of this very part of him. It had seemed all he was likely to get, just a glimpse. And yet now here he is, with Flint standing between his legs.

The first thrust inside – Flint’s soft exhalation as though allowing himself to breathe for the first time in years – his hands sinking into Silver’s hair and gripping his back at the same time. Silver’s thighs to encompass him and then simply closed around Flint, bringing him in as close as he could, his hands clinging to Flint’s ass with each thrust.

The sound of their breath, every rasp and moan merges together until Silver can’t tell which sounds are coming from him and which from Flint. It doesn’t matter. Flint’s grip tightening in his hair makes Silver tighten around him. He gasps, nails digging into Flint’s ass cheeks. Flint groans and then, to Silver’s astonishment, he pulls out abruptly, leaving Silver empty and staring up at him.

“What?”

“Lie back.” Flint orders, nudging at his thighs.

Silver does, still looking at him questioningly. As he does, the coat fans out over the desk like sea wave.

“Raise your hands and hold on to the desk.” Flint commands.

Silver raises his arms, gripping the edge of the desk with his fingers.

Only then does Flint lift his thighs and thrust back inside him. Every pulse of his cock sends Silver arching up from the desk like a bow. His cock lies swollen across his belly, waiting for Flint to pay it some attention. And finally, oh god, finally, he does. His right hand closes around Silver’s length, stroking him in solid measure with his thrusts.

Silver’s lip catches between his teeth. He can feel the thrust of Flint’s cock all through his body like a thunderclap. His cock is thrusting frenziedly into Flint’s fist. His shoulders are braced hard against the desk, his knuckles white with desperation and desire.

And then inexplicably, Flint slows his pace.

Silver starts to open his mouth to object.

Flint pulls back, pulling out until just the head of his cock is inside Silver’s ass. Silver can feel it pulsing inside him. And god he wants it back in him. Having it barely there is not enough. He needs all of it, needs Flint, fuck him.

Flint looks down at him and Silver waits, and then, because he can’t stand waiting any longer, he simply _squeezes_ around Flint’s cock.

He watches the sensation hit Flint, watches the expression on his face, the way his grip tightens on Silver’s thighs and the faint exhalation passing his lips.

Silver does it again.

“Enough.” Flint mutters.

He slides his hands down fully under Silver’s ass, cupping his cheeks with both hands as he starts moving again. Deep, thick strokes that fill Silver with a gut deep need for release. He wants Flint’s hands all over him, he wants Flint to kiss him again, he wants Flints to keep fucking him forever.

Instead he succumbs to the masterful strokes of Flint’s hand, spilling over his own thighs with a gasp. The rough waves of his release make him clench tightly around Flint again. Flint groans, fingers digging into Silver’s ass with unrestrained force. Silver feels him surge inside him and he lets his head fall back, panting wildly.

Flint’s still clutching his ass as he withdraws.

Silver can feel Flint’s come seeping out of him as he slowly sits up. He wonders if Flint will kill him if he wipes it with the edge of the coat. He decides not to risk it.

“You’ll think of this every time I wear this coat.” Flint murmurs. His hand rests on Silver’s naked thigh. “You’ll see this coat and remember the weight of it, and the weight of my cock, what it felt like to be possessed by it.”

Silver shivers faintly under the words and the promise it entails. And he knows that Flint is right. He will never not remember this. Even after the marks fade from his body, he will remember this.

He pulls his breeches and underclothes back on slowly, still trying to clear his head from the influence of Flint. From the fact that he let this happen. That Flint let this happen. Now that the lust has faded slightly, he can’t really fathom _why_ Flint let that happen.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks at last, not really expecting an answer.

“A thank you for helping me regain the ship.” Flint says curtly. “You can go now.”

“A thank you?” Silver repeats, certain he’s heard wrong. “If that’s how you thank a man, the stories of Captain Flint must be all wrong.”

He means it as a joke but Flint’s face darkens.

Flint turns away, reaching for the rum again. “I said get out.”

Silver pauses. “I didn’t mean anything…” He hesitates and then slowly lets the coat slide from his shoulders at last. He places it around the back of Flint’s chair.

He turns to leave and Flint half moves, reaching out to clasp his hand around Silver’s wrist.

Silver stares down at Flint’s hand clasping him. The same hand that just stroked him to completion only a few minutes ago. He can’t think of a word to say.

“That wasn’t meant….” Flint gives a faint shake of his head. He glances at his hand on Silver’s wrist and then up at Silver again. “I suppose like you, I wanted to know what it felt like…” He pauses again.

And Silver half expects a trite finish to the start of that as he waits. “…to fuck you.” “hot and tight.”

Instead Flint gives a helpless small sound that sounds like a hollow laugh. “To lose myself in someone again.”

Silver swallows. He can’t bear the haunted, yet hopeful expression in Flint’s eyes, nor the hunger in the fingers wrapped around his skin. He can’t say any of the words currently struggling in his chest, his own bones wanting to flee this cabin before he lets himself give anything of himself away. He can’t give himself to Flint any more than he already has.

But he can’t just go.

Slowly, before he loses the courage, he leans in, daring to reach up to cup Flint’s jaw. He feels the tremor there, the tightness of Flint’s tension at his touch. And then he presses his lips to Flint’s, a soft pressure of heartache and relief, and all the tangled myriad of emotions that have taken root within him and have no intention of leaving.

Flint gives a breath of a murmur, his hand slips from Silver’s wrist and starts to travel up Silver’s arm.

Silver pulls away before he can let it go further. “Well, as thank yous go, I’ve had worse.” He says the words lightly as he steps away.

Flint swallows. “I’m sure.” He hesitates and Silver really can’t bear to hear anything more. 

He turns and heads for the door. He starts to open it before he catches himself. What if just this once…

Silver half turns, glancing back over his shoulder.

Flint’s standing there where he left him, gazing out the open cabin window. But his left hand is resting upon the shoulder of the coat that Silver had hung over the chair, fingers spread wide as though trying to hold on to the warmth still lingering from Silver’s skin.

Silently Silver slips from the cabin, closing the door behind him. As he makes his way to his own hammock for the night, he decides that he made the right decision there. Giving in to his lust for one night was enough, but had he turned back…had he remained there with Flint and tried to tell him why he wanted to stay and flee in one breath, it would have been the end. He would never be able to stand on his own two feet with the crew after regaining his position. He needs to regain his footing, maintain his own place here, not merely clinging to the shadow of Flint.

But as he settles in his hammock, exhaling in the night and lifting his arms above his head as he stretches…Silver can hardly suppress a wave of longing deep within him. It would have been so easy and yet impossible. He closes his eyes, feeling again the weight of Flint inside him, and knows that whatever tomorrow brings, he will not shake the memory of tonight’s events off easily. Nor does he wish to.

No, instead Silver keeps his eyes closed and lets himself replay the entire evening, before he finally drifts to sleep.


End file.
